The Wait
by MakOz Tateyama
Summary: "You know you'll have to leave this greenhouse, eventually." "I don't see why, I've been here for years. No one ever came looking for me." "Fate waited too much already, melissa. Fate will come looking for you. One day you'll understand... your roots run too deep to be restricted by a vase. You will be found, lost daughter of Demeter."


**The Wait – Story of Aletheia**

**Author's note (important!):**  
So, this is the first written thing I post on the internet since... 2012, I think? Wow.  
Anyway. English is NOT my first language, and what you're going to read is my first attempt at writing stories in this language; there'll be mistakes for sure, sentences that are too long or punctuation threw in because I always exaggerate, so please let me know when you find them and how I could correct them, I'm trying to get better here. Also note that this story didn't go through beta reading because unfortunately, I do not have the time necessary to properly fix everything at the moment, so I'm just throwing it in the jaws of the web but i definitely will post an updated and corrected version once I'm free this summer.  
That said, I have just a couple little notes more for you:  
1- in the story description, "melissa" isn't the character's name, but an archaic term that was used for Demeter's priestesses, who were considered in a way daughters of the goddess.  
2- the initial inspiration for this was the song "Waving through a window" from the famous Dear Evan Hansen musical, so if you can go listen to it to enter the mood. For the story and character, I interpreted the lyrics in a slightly different way from the original, but obviously the basic message is the same. Very emotional song, very emotional musical, if you haven't watched/listened to it, go now, it's great.  
3- some things won't be immediately clear as you read, but that's wanted. I'll explain more things at the end of the story in the final author's notes.

Thank you for the attention, now let's get to the story. Enjoy!

**─────────── ๑ ⋅ ✧ ⋅ ๑ ───────────**

_Tap._

The first drop, clear but a bit far. Must have been on the distant west angle.

_Tap. Tap. Tap._

Its sisters followed soon after, in an increasing watery rhythm. She raised her head, looking at the bright white-grey sky through the glass, the light quite bothersome for her eyes.

_Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap tap_

_Shaaaa..._

Now it was a real shower, the roar of rain echoing all around the greenhouse, falling in infinite drops on the transparent roof, managing to slip in through some of the broken and stained panels. Fortunately the majority of the leaks were over the plants, and she had been smart enough to check before settling down her "bedroom" corner, to avoid eventual waterfalls over her head as she slept. She sighed softly, a breath so light that she couldn't almost hear it herself. Walking towards the nearest ruinous brick wall, she caressed the plants' leaves and branches; each of them tells a story, and she listens to all. They don't actually speak, /of course/. But it's in the air, a constant buzzing. Few can hear, the voice of the world, the voice of the earth and the life and strenght and power that flows within it.

But she never listens too long, or too deep. There's something, down and down beneath the feet, something incredibly ancient, and powerful, and overwhelming; it has a similar vibe to the one she feels, and she's sure that if she actually tried, she could reach it. She never tries, though.

_Leave the ancient ones in their slumber._

She let that something rest, a powerful feeling of dread and fear creeping in her chest the closer she attempts to get.  
What didn't rest, instead, were her thoughts. She sat down on the low wall, hands resting on her sides brushing the edge of the dark red mossy bricks as she leaned slightly back. She knew what was coming, and couldn't exactly stop it. No one was around to help, after all. No one had been for years, centuries perhaps. She still did not know.  
A chill ran down her spine, the humid air starting to get colder, as her heart skipped a beat to regain an increasingly faster pace immediately after. She breathed in the scent of the greenhouse, humidity, earth, miriads of plants that she recognized by heart. The faint pulsating life of the olive tree that unceremoniously grew in the middle of the glass building, wild but elegant.

She breathed out, and let the echoes of the past and memories to overcome the echoes of the rain.

**─────────── ๑ ───────────**

_We start with stars in our eyes_

_We start believing that we belong_

_But every sun doesn't rise_

_And no one tells you where you went wrong _❞

1922.  
Same roar, same sky, same cold rainy day. But she was in a much drier place, and her company didn't consist in only plants.

Early in the morning, in the living room of the old, smoke-dirty red brick building that was the orphanage, her brother had started ranting once again, eyes sunk in and circled by dark bags. He hadn't properly slept in weeks, neither of them had. But while Aiolia let out his pain in those rage bursts of growls, yells and punches to the walls, she kept it bottled up, staying quiet with her gaze too often on the ground, the tapping of her fingers on whatever book, pot or sewing set she had in her hands being the only sign of her nervousness, along with her stiffened shoulders, nerves constantly tensed. It was exhausting for both of them.

"They're not even investigating anymore!"

"Aiolia-"

"And it has been only three weeks!"

"Please-"

"I told you, they don't care! No one will ever find out what happened! He was killed and we'll never know the truth! Do you know what they said, uh? Do you know?! They wanted to write it had been an accident. /An accident!/ You know what does that mean?"

"Don't start again, please"

"It means they're involved in some way! Poisoning isn't an accident! We need to do something! We know there's something behind all of it!"

The _did_ know. They would have been stupid to think otherwise. But they couldn't do much, they were just two orphan kids who had just lost the most similar thing they had to a parental figure. They were basically invisible to everyone, powerless like a seed in the desert. Lost and weak, unimportant.  
_Bound to die, probably._  
And Aiolia was becoming too defiant, his accusations and personal... investigations growing reckless and dangerous every time he stepped out from the orphanage door.

"Aiolia stop. You can't keep going like this. We can't do anything now, you're just risking to get hurt in the process!"

"You don't get it! We can do something! We _have_ to!"

The whole thing had started almost two months before, when their older brother, Aiolos, had suddenly attacked the director of the orphanage where his two siblings lived, while he was busy making enough money to buy a place to stay for all three. From the chair she was sunk in while reading, she had seen with the tail of her eye her brother climbing up the stairs to the director's office, accompanied by the latter, to discuss things she didn't know about. The next thing she heard, less than ten minutes after, were sound of scuffle, something hitting hard rock wood furniture, and the director's secretary yell as she opened a door, immediately followed by grunts and a chocked "Let me go!" from the director.  
She then heard and saw the man falling down the stairs, pushed by her brother that towered at top of the staircase with the most angry look she had ever seen on him in her life. Calm, smart, strong, wise and loving Aiolos, their protector from the world that forgot about them too soon, the glue that kept the family together, the perfect boy with golden soft hair and sky-clear eyes that promised them a new home to start living once again soon. The brother that less than a week before the accident told them something about greek gods and myths, that they were more that what it seemed (she didn't understood if he was talking about the three of them or the legends).  
That same golden boy was now standing tall and fierce, eyes glaring, as bruises with the suspicious shape of his hands were starting to form on the director's neck.  
After that day, they saw Aiolos less and less, and there were the occasional police visits to question her and Aiolia about their brother and other things, the officers nodding absentmindedly at every statement on the boy's friendly and pacific usual behaviour. Two weeks after the accident, the two siblings stopped seeing their brother completely. He was found dead, in the red light district; they didn't let them see his body, saying that his face and chest were too gruesome for kids. A foreign and strange form of acid poison, they said.  
The two siblings were forced to drop the subject; after all, it was still an investigation of a recent criminal, found in one of the worst neighborhoods.

"If we do something we're going to get killed too!"

She finally snapped, raising from the chair and looking her younger brother in the eyes, mesmerizing green against piercing sky blue. The boy clenched his jaw and kept staring in silence for a second, taking then a step closer to his sister.

"We're gonna get killed anyway."

"That's not true, we need to fly low! We're going to get away from here one day, you just need to w-"

"I'M TIRED OF WAITING!"

His voice went high in a tone dangerously close to a sob. He was only a lost kid playing tough. He was barely thirteen.

"I'm tired of waiting for them to never find anything, tired of waiting for something to jump on me at every corner, tired of waiting for someone else to decide whem I'm going to die! I'm tired of seeing his memory tainted like this!"

"Aiolia you can't-"

"I don't care what you say, I'm going to get this fixed!"

He sharply turned around to grab his ruined coat, quickly storming outside with heavy steps. She couldn't stop him, she didn't have the strength to. She was the older one now, the strong and collected big sister, she should have been running after him. But she only managed to push back the tears clenching her teeth, and listen to him getting out of the old door while she fidgeted with her green medallion.

A year later, she found herself in the orphanage living room, bags packed and ready to leave.  
Everything was quiet. Too quiet for her aching heart. She held on her necklace taking deep breaths, as if the smooth stone could answer her prayers.  
Aiolia hadn't came back in two weeks.  
_Another branch of the tree had been cut off._  
Outside, a car honked. Time to go.

**─────────── ๑ ───────────**

_Step out, step out of the sun_

_If you keep getting burned_

_Step out, step out of the sun_

_Because you've learned, because you've learned ❞_

America wasn't that bad. She still had some problems with the lenguage, and with geography (it was freaking big compared to Greece), but she was learning fast. She thanked her love for books, that helped making her reading problems slightly better, and borrowed every text she could from the library in the house.  
And what a house. The Jeffersons were definitely rich; she had assumed so when, stepping down from the cruise ship she had crossed the ocean on, she saw their clothes -the father and older son in elegant black suits matched with silk ties, the mother and daughter in fine dresses and pearl jewelry- and when, after introducing themselves in a nearly perfect greek, they approached their car, a Rolls Royce Silver Ghost as explained, that looked like it came out straight from a dream, shining and white, with silver details and even a driver waiting for them, who rushed to open up the doors for every member. The only other car she had been on was the old black one that back in 1913 brought her and her brothers at the orphanage.  
She stopped her train of thoughts before they took that sad direction; it was a big day, she had just been brought to her new home by a new family, she should have tried to stay happy. She didn't have to try that hard though, especially after arriving at the Jefferson s' house, a big, old manor as white as the car, that perfectly reflected the first impression they gave her. Large windows let the sunshine illuminate the living room and kitchen, the bedrooms were large and the beds soft and comfortable, the furniture in general seemed top quality (like the one in the orphanage director's office): the wooden wardrobes and drawers with carved decorations that resembled the ones she had seen in the ancient temples in her homeland, and even the two thin columns that framed the entrance had at their base two weird looking lions-like creatures. Chimeras, the young miss Jefferson had said, as she told her about their parents' passion for greek myths; actually, there was some kind of artifact or replica of it in every corner of the house. Vases, pieces of frescos, parts of ruined columns or sculptures, a showcase of rusty, half-destroyed and barely recognizable weapons; all from different eras and places. That hobby also explained why they knew her native language so well. Soon after, they started asking her to translate certain phrases in ancient greek on their archeological pieces, or what she thought of certain copies, if they were true to the originals or not. It didn't bother her, though.  
At the beginning.

She bonded someway with her new family. She officially took their last name, as much as it clashed with her greek first one (that the man at the registry office wrote wrong, but at least she wasn't "Alexia"). She got used to their few weird tendencies, and to the American lifestyle. Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson even hired, beside the professors that took care of the siblings education, an expert fighting teacher to make their children "do some physical activity to grow strong and healthy!"; the older brother was more cold and distant, barely acknowledging the new girl in the house, and trained with fencing and pankration, an ancient and powerful fighting style, while his sister whined quite a bit when she was forced to learn at least self defense techniques, but it seemed like she decided that she had a new real-size doll. Tabitha, that was her name, was seventeen, a year older than her, and like every rich teenage girl she _loved _to party; so she obviously brought her new adopted sister around in every mundane hot night she participated to, presenting her to all her supposedly friends and twirling around between boys and speakeasies, following the catchy and warm rhythm of jazz, the devil's new music.  
It was a bit frenzy, often being at the center of attention with her sun-kissed skin, golden long hair and hypnotic green eyes: she was the exotic sideshow, but she managed. Actually, Tabitha was the only one that seemed to bond with her in a more... normal way, even if somehow frivolous. The girl also looked oblivious to how the other members of the family saw the new child. While Jonathan, the older son, completely ignored her or glanced at her like she was a new pet that he did not care about, their parents were always... excited? to have her around; they asked a lot about her homeland and its myths and folklore, and generally treating her more like a new piece of their vast greek collection than a daughter, like a prized possession that they couldn't wait to show around to their friends.  
Friends that she met only after a year of USA life, on a warm spring night, when things started to become clearer.

That evening, the two spouses came to her room, elegantly dressed like when they went to church on Sunday, and asked her to join them for a "special event". They both seemed eager to go, and made her wear a pretty white dress, along with a nice golden and decorated belt, and her inseparable medallion. Even if confused, she did as told, and as they were about to step out the large white door of the villa, she noticed Tabitha peeking her head out of the kitchen, her expression a mixture of curiosity and pouting; no speakeasy for them tonight. She also caught a glimpse of Jonathan in the library, who cast them a quick glance; was that... jealousy she saw? Envy? She furrowed her brows thoughtful, but Mrs. Jefferson put her hands on her shoulders and gave her a little push forward, as the black twin of the Jeffersons' car stopped at the end of the trail that crossed the big garden straight on in front of the house.  
The ride was filled by long moments of electric silence and sporadic excited comments from the mother, something vague like "It's gonna be so interesting my dear!" or "You'll see sweetheart, it's going to be quite the night!"  
And it had been, but not in the positive way the Jeffersons made it look.  
When the car stopped, they were in the suburbs of the city, small puddles forming on the concrete as a soft rain started to fall, reflecting only the faint light of a lonely streetlamp. The driver hurriedly covered the three of them with an umbrella, and accompanied them to the only good-looking building of the area, a big, weird circular one, covered in the shadows of the night. The inside was dark too, just a couple of soft light permitting her to see the silhouette of a long black marble desk and the man standing behind it, who as soon as they dried off came in their direction, welcoming Mr. Jefferson like an old costumer and giving him a card; then he gestured with his arm to a corridor even darker than the rest of the room, like a bottomless pit waiting to engulf them, and they stepped in it.  
Before entering though, she manage to see the symbol and read the greek words carved in a marble plaque over the corridor's entrance: a lyre, and "Orpheus Society".

After an unexpectedly long walk in the darkness, strange noises started coming from the end of the path. A heavy curtain, and they were out in a new blinding light.  
She had to close her eyes for a moment, but she was still overwhelmed by the booming chaos that ensured. A couple hundred people sat on the stands of what looked like a reproduction of a greek indoors amphitheatre, everyone shouting and cheering on whatever was happening in the arena in front of them. In fact, rolling in the sand after receiving a bad hit, there was a boy, dressed like a stereotyped ancient greek, with a sword in hand. But it was the creature that was growling at him that made her stop dead in her tracks: body of a lion, deadly scorpion tail, and a horrible human face. Something in her flipped off, like a dusty alarm that had been waiting for this moment for years, an alarm that was screaming GET OUT OF HERE. She shouldn't have been there. The whole place felt_ wrong_.

_Get out get out get out._

But Mr. Jefferson pushed her forward with a hearty laugh.  
"Incredible, isn't it?"  
"Truly exciting! And fascinating!" echoed his wife.  
She didn't answer, letting them bring her to three free seats, her eyes glued to the arena, even in the moment when the boy was stung by the creature's tail; he managed to cut it off, the beast howling in pain, but the damage was done. He slowly stepped back, holding his side, until the angry monster jumped forward, sending him slamming against one of the two large columns at the sides of the arena. He collapsed and didn't move again. She looked down at her feet as three people stepped in the arena trying to bring away the beast, as the audience booed loudly. She heard mister Jefferson comment something to his neighbor, but her mind was still processing what was happening.  
Aiolos' stories. The myths and legends. The ancient gods and creatures. The monsters.  
When she had looked at the boy, she felt something familiar.

_You're like me._

She couldn't place that feeling, nor explain it. But all of that was deeply wrong and confusing and scary and...  
Her attention was brought back to the centre of the amphitheatre, were two new fighters, another lion-like monster and a girl, were pushed in. This time though, the girl immediately raised her hands, and a gust of wind blown up the sand, blinding the creature, but it didn't reach the stands. She noticed a faint glow that surrounded the arena like a bubble of some kind.

_Godly powers and magic._

She didn't know why she was so sure of it, she had never been one to believe legends or superstitions. But she was certain.  
Near her, the Jeffersons cheered, following the roars of the public. She gulped down and prepared herself for a long, cruel night.

After a week of silences, avoiding the family and getting worried looks from Tabitha, Mr. and Mrs. Jefferson asked her to go out with them once again, same clothing, same hour, same destination. It wasn't a question, really.  
They came back to the round building and entered that hellish place. Again on the same stands, again the chaos, again the painful and gruesome shows. She barely registered the time passing, her eyes on the arena but quite unfocused, trying her best to calm down her raging instincts. She did not notice a couple of decorative plants pots slightly trembling every time she clenched her fists at her sides.  
That evening though, the schedule included some fights between people instead that versus monsters only, and two guys walked in the arena, both confident in their steps, almost aggressive. The seats the Jeffersons got were a bit farther than last time (Mr. Jefferson complained a little when they went in), and the only thing that she could notice were the lion mane-like hair of the boy on the right, the messy short black of the left one, and how brawny they looked, probably having trained for long time. The black haired one also held a spear, while the other seemed to have choose to fight with his bare hands. She didn't care for the distance thought, as it would have made the battle more bearable for her, not seeing the light leaving their eyes or the pure hate looks they cast all around them.  
As soon as the battle started, she sort of understood why the right boy didn't got a weapon: his punches and hits were clearly way stronger than average, and dig fist-sized holes in the terrain whenever he missed; she also noticed something weird in him, in the way he moved, as he tried to always cover his left side and anticipate the attacks coming from that direction. As the fight went on, each part holding up as much as they could, the lion-maned boy ended up facing their direction, and basically froze. She didn't know what got into him but, after being hit by the butt of the spear pole, he suddenly switched to a defensive strategy, letting his foe close the distance and push him near one of the two supporting columns of the arena, until he found himself with his back brushing the hard rock. Then, he yelled and charged his foe literally head on, headbutting him in the stomach; after the black haired guy fell back, the other one regained his balance but instead of attacking the enemy, he glanced at the public, like looking for someone, before yelling again and turning to the column, starting to furiously punch it, screaming at every hit. He looked like a madman, his hands visibly bleeding, and after some surprised murmurs, some people started laughing and making comments on his sudden insanity.

They stopped when they noticed the enormous column actually cracking, making the ceiling start to shake. Dust began to rain down on the audience; someone screamed and several raised from their seats in a rush.  
Then the column broke in half and slowly went crumbling in the middle of the arena, a giant falling from the sky. The blow left the whole place in silence for a second, everyone seeming to forget everything was collapsing until moments before. The boy let out a war cry, and the thin, almost invisible lines of the magical barrier went on and off a couple of times, before fading completely. The other boy looked incredulous at the public, then looked at his hand holding the spear. He slowly raised his arm, like mesmerized, and threw the weapon.  
A clean hit, that pierced a man who was standing in front of the seats. The panic finally settled in all the amphitheatre, and everyone ran towards the corridors entrance in complete chaos. She caught glimpse of other people appearing in the arena, who after some seconds of amazement started to attack as well with everything they could get their hands on.  
She felt someone grabbing her wrist and pulling her in the dark aisle, squished between other's bodies like in the middle of a fleeing stampede. Over the screams, she heard behind her pieces of the building falling, crackling sounds like lightings, and a couple of roars and various cries, probably of creatures that were being freed. She didn't look back.

During the ride back home, she feared she would have died in an accident. didn't even wait for the driver, taking his seat instead after pushing his wife and stepdaughter in the car. The rain had stopped and he drove as fast as he could on the wet streets, like a horde of monsters was chasing them, and probably if they stayed behind it would have been. Once on the alleyway, he hopped down and yelled for the guardian of the house, a large bald man, that rushed immediately at the entrance, surprised by his boss' unexpected early return. Mr. Jefferson barked some orders to him as they stepped in the house, before sending her in her room with stern voice. She did as told, and felt someone locking the door from outside. Trapped in. They didn't want her to escape like the people at the Orpheus Society. Those...

_Demigods._

She wasn't stupid, she understood why they brought her at the arena. Why they gave her a fighting teacher. Why they seemed so interested in her origins and homeland. Why they adopted her in the first place, why they showed her around like a prize.  
Soon it would have been her on the sand in the middle of the amphitheatre, fighting monsters and other poor souls that had the misfortune of having a drop of divine blood in their veins.  
She breathed in, trying to calm her racing heart, and glanced out of the window. At the end of the garden, a big lonely oak seemed to look back at her, giving mute suggestions. She stared for some seconds, then narrowed her eyes. She had waited too long. Time to go.  
Her eyes travelled on the wall of her room, where a nice line of dried bouquets had been tied to a shelf. She never heard them whisper like the other plants of the house. But her guts told her that they would have worked the same. She brushed her fingers on the dead, stiff petals and closed her eyes.  
In a blink, she felt cool and humid air against her skin, and hard, rough bark on the palm of her hand. She looked up, finding herself standing under the protective branches of the garden's oak in the dark of the night. She took a deep breath and mentally thanked the tree, before taking a step back and turning to the street.  
She didn't even glanced one last time at the house. She just kept moving forward, without minding the puddles she ended up in as her steps broke into a run.

❝ _On the outside always looking in will I_  
_ever be more than what I've always been_  
_Cause I'm tap tap tapping on the glass_  
_Waving through a window_ ❞

She arrived in the big city by night, almost a week later. After all the lost wandering, trying to avoid people and putting as much distance as she could between herself and the Jeffersons and that damn arena, she saw from afar the lights of Las Vegas. The Sin City, the Lady.  
And like a moth to a flame, she had headed there, despite all the warning signs she should have probably listened to. Since she had moved in the USA a year before, she hadn't feel safe there. She somehow knew they were on the wrong side of the country. Bad things happened in the west, her guts told her so. But it wasn't like she could travel to the other side of America; it was already a miracle that she made it that far, without money nor a change of clothes nor proper supplies for the improvised journey, or any suplly in general, actually. She was dead tired and hungry, her last meal having been some fruits stolen from a farmer's carriage on the road. She had tried to stay away from any village or city until that moment, wanting to avoid eventual police officers questioning her or any ill-intended individual, but the exhaustion was about to take over her, so she dragged her feet into the streets of the Devil's Hide, the bright lights of all the advertising boards shining over her head and reflecting on every glass surface, creating a blinding game of colors and temptations that called for new game victims.

"You're on the lam, doll?"  
She turned suddenly, almost scared by the unexpected call that shook her from her train of thoughts; she found a blonde young man probably just a bit over his twenties, dressed in a stylish white suit and a matching hat with blue details. He was laying back on the column of one of the many casinos of the area, flashing her a charming grin while brushing the golden double snake-head of his cane, head slightly tilted in curiosity. She didn't answer him, just staring with furrowed brows as her hand went covering her medallion, the only valuable possession she actually had that could have interested him.  
To not think of worse.  
He took notice of the gesture, raising an eyebrow with an amused glint in his eyes.  
"Ah, don't worry, your baby there is safe. What I cared more about..." he left the wall and took a light step in her direction "Is that you look lost doll. And, frankly speaking, a little battered up too."  
He gave her a full look from head to toe, and she couldn't really blame him. Five days on the streets sure didn't do well to her hair and clothes, or her appearance in general. She didn't even had the strength to talk back to him limiting herself to an unamused glance that said it all.  
He hummed, twirling his lips in a thoughtful manner, before stepping closer and putting a hand on her shoulder, twirling her on her feet.  
"You see that?"  
In front of them, on the opposite side of the street, was a white building like many others, classy and glamorous, with a large entrance decorated by white lightbulbs and exotic plants, surrounding two greek-like columns that framed the actual doors. Upon that, a giant golden writing circled by yellow lights said "Casino Lotus"; at its sides, two big and beautifully painted lotus flowers stressed the concept to the passerby.  
"That's a good place you can go. You might even find someone to help you out in there." he gave her a knowing wink and stopped her before she could comment on the evident lack of money and interest. "Hushhh, hush hush. You won't need money for that. It's totally free, I promise."  
And with another charming smile he nodded to a waiter standing right next to the Casino entrance, who immediatly noticed and approached them, as the man in white made her cross the road. The waiter warmly smiled at her, welcoming.  
"In need of a place to stay miss?" he happily pushed a rigid card in her hands, earning a confused look from her "With this card you'll be granted access to all of our services, from a suite in the hotel to infinite games at the casino and drinks in the bar area, along with great musical arrangement and dances, of course. Only the best for our clients!"  
His words were frantic, and honestly her head was starting to feel a bit heavy. Maybe just a night, to rest...  
"Everything is free, you don't have to worry!" the waiter then looked at her hand sincerly surprised "I see you have our card miss, so you're already a member! Please, come in"  
Yeah, just a night. She didn't even had to pay for anything. It was suspicious, it was weird and mesmerizing in a way that shouldn't have felt safe. But she needed a bed and food so bad. Glancing in, she could already see the speakeasy area, filled with people dancing on a catchy jazz number.  
"C'mon, it'll be safe, I swear on the... uh, on my father's pants."  
The man in white gave her another light push towards the building, while the waiter opened the doors for her.  
"Good luck for the future. See you around, melissa."  
She turned to tell the man that wasn't her name, but he was already gone. She realized only a few moments later that his last phrase had been in greek, and that 'Melissa' gave her a weird feeling, like an inside joke that she couldn't get. She stared at where he was just seconds before with a thoughtful expression, then sighed and carefully stepped in the Casino Lotus, hand gripping her new card. Surrounded by the sounds of roulette machines, people's happy chatting and jazz tunes, she let the glamorous building engulf her.

It was 1925.  
When she eventually managed to get out of there, it was 2013. Not that she exactly knew how much time had passed.

All because of a girl with piercing electric blue eyes and her oversized wolf.  
It happened on her... third? Fourth day? Too soon in her opinion, since she was enjoying herself in her new comfortable (even if temporary, right?) residency. She was walking in the main hall, when a sudden crash of glass and a loud thud came from the other side of the enormous room, soon followed by screams of fear and general mayhem; she even caught glimpse of a couple of people being thrown in the air, accompanied by crackling of thunder and light-blue flashes that suspiciously looked like lightning hitting the ground. A crowd soon started to form around her, to see better what was happening, squishing her between them, but as fast as they gathered they started to scatter yelling and trying to get out of the way of whatever was coming in their direction.  
Caught in the middle, she could only try to dodge the figure that crashed in running as fast as it could. It bumped her shoulders a little harshly, causing her to involuntarily turn around and face for a split second the bluest eyes she had ever seen, bright and electric, a bit widened. The running girl didn't lose time though, and after almost losing her balance falling headfirst on the floor, she regained her pace and went on opening a passage between people. But apparently the girl wasn't the only one causing damages, as the screams continued from behind her shoulders, and people kept crushing against one another like a herd of sheep scared by a wolf.  
Pushed and pulled in the crowd, she found herself twirling around like the evening before with that green dressed girl on the dance floor. But it was way more confusing now, people yelping or mumbling at every step she took. When she finally got her balance back, she glanced up between all the bodies, trying to understand where she was, but only met the eyes of a dark grey, five feet tall wolf, that was rushing in her direction, not caring about those that ended up on his way.  
Hell no.  
Without thinking she immediately sprinted in the opposite direction, which was where the blue-eyed girl had gone, and not so incidentally the direction to the exit. She slammed the door open as the sunlight hit her straight on, unaware that it was the first time that it touched her skin after almost a century. But beside the sun's warmth, she found no other comfort in the brand new outside world.

She didn't understand: what was that? Where in hell was she?  
Gigantic buildings, mostly made of glass, brushed the clouds with the tips of their roofs, towering over her like mountains. Everything was so gray and bright, except for the colorful advertisings of this or that casino.  
And the sounds. An incredible amount of weird cars stood in line occupying the entire street, and they seemed to be having a choir session of honking against each other, accompanied by the occasional insults and yells from their owners; and as soon as the line started to move they sped up, the roar of the engines and tires screeching on the asphalt. On top of all that, the air was barely breathable, itching her throat as soon as she inhaled the first time. Her eyes stung, hurt by the natural light they didn't remember.  
The first thing she told herself was to not panic.  
The first thing she did, though, was starting to panic. She breathed in and out that bad air, her head spinning faster and faster as nausea started to rise. Her brain was trying so badly to register what was happening and what /had happened/, and refused to accept one (the only one, actually) answer that she gave herself. She didn't noticed when her hands and legs began trembling, but somehow she managed to stay on her feet, eyes widened like a deer caught in headlights as she frantically turned her head left and right, confusion and terror written all over her face.

_Run._

The sounds seemed to rise in volume, while her vision became blurred. Her feet started moving on their own, not knowing where to go, but any place would have been better than there. She was completely overwhelmed and defenseless, and every ounce of her being was screaming to just go away.

_Breathe in breathe out breathe in breathe out breathe in breath out breathe in breathe out-_

Hadn't she almost trip over the sidewalk, she wouldn't have noticed. In the chaos, a blessed whisper.  
With knees still trembling and hands slightly scratched by her attempt to not fall, she dared to glance down at the lonely yellow soft spot hidden between the cracks of the street. A single dandelion, its leaves perhaps a bit ruined but still kicking in. Somehow, it felt like a oasis in the desert, and she kept staring at the little brave flower, sure of what she had heard. A minute or so later, it whispered again.  
It was weak, his 'voice' raspy and coughing here and there, but it was there. And it was showing her the way. Even if she had been unconsciously crying, new tears threatened to fall.  
It was the first sign, the first of many others that followed, plant after plant, from leaf to leaf to petal. Little or big lives that whispered her name in a chant harmonized with the earth itself, a song invisible and inaudible by most, that took her by the hand and guided her on the right path, following the rays of the sun and the streets patiently dug by roots. She finally breathed in for real, cleaner air, a caress after years of loneliness.  
She kept moving forward.

Against all odds, she did ended up travelling to the other side of America.  
A tractor in a soft rainy day. A horse surprisingly offering a ride in the middle of a grain field. A cargo train on a summer morning, taking in the fresh air while bathing in the sun that she so dearly missed. Long, extenuating miles by foot.  
Day by day, step after step. The way was only one, and the plants showed her which one.  
It was lonely, for sure. Somewhere during her travel she realized she probably hadn't had a proper interaction with another human being in a long, long time. She tried to talk out loud, when no one was around. It was strange, but everything had been so overwhelming that hearing her own voice sort of brought her back with her feet on the ground, at least in part. She also did her best to not to think of any past event, but it was too hard, and more than a couple of times she found herself hugging her knees somewhere in a corner, isolated from everyone, surrounded only by blades of grass, or gentle bushes, or thin branches that brushed her cheeks. She took deep breathes and tried to calm down the rising panic and the waves of sadness, but her heart remained heavy on her chest. In those days every step was like trying to move an entire tree, and every breath risked becoming a shaky one, to turn then in a sob. Those were bad days, but they didn't stop her journey.  
The plants guided her and gave her that little non-human company that was enough to not go crazy. And she let them bring her wherever she needed to be, as much as the travelling seemed never-ending.

But one day, at the crack of dawn of the last days of summer, she reached her destination.  
It appeared in the middle of a large clearing after she got out of a forest, planted in the middle of a field of bright green high grass. A big greenhouse, evidently old and abandoned but the perfect safe haven in her eyes, the glass that covered almost the entire structure shining in the dawning sunlight like a beacon. A fresh breeze ruffled her golden hair, now so long that they brushed her legs, bringing along the rustling of the grass, moving the field like a sea.  
She let out a deep sigh that lifted all the weight of the last months from her shoulders, and the whole glade seemed to breathe with her.  
She approached the building and stepped in, being immediately embraced by the warmth and by the strong scent of earth and plants. Looking around, she noticed the broken vases and glass panels, the rust on the iron bars of the structure, and the moss forming at every corner. Sure, there was a bit of work to do, but it just felt _right_. She needed to be there, that was her place.

A little mown olive tree stood in the dead center, were all the paths converged, and even if ill-looking, he was still trying to grow his way to the top.  
She would have started from there.

At last, home.

**─────────── ๑ ───────────**

❝ _I try to speak, but nobody can hear_  
_So I wait around for an answer to appear_  
_While I'm watch, watch, watching people pass_  
_Waving through a window, oh_  
_Can anybody see, is anybody waving back at me?_ ❞

_Shaaaaaa..._

Again the roar of rain, that finally managed to make her get back to her senses. She blinked a few times, feeling her eyelashes humid and trying to push away the drowsiness; she took a couple of breaths before standing up, glancing out. Damn, it was already evening.  
She sighed and stretched, regaining the sensibility of her limbs; every now and then, those episodes of panic, sadness and memories still happened, catching her tired and lonely, but she had learned more or less how to treat them.  
She wandered in the greenhouse, returning to her usual routine, fixing up the last things and watering the plants that needed it, before going in the side 'wing' of the structure, the only one partially made of bricks, and the one that she elected as her room, since it was the less humid and exposed place.  
There was something in the air in that moment though, but she couldn't place it. It was one of those godly-and-other-related-things feelings, and she decided to let it be; it wasn't like she could do much anyway.  
She gave herself a last, useless look in the broken full-figure mirror in the corner, then slipped in the worn out sleeping bag she used as a bed and slowly fell asleep.

And she dreamed. She dreamed of a raging fire that burned around her and the olive tree she was sitting in, a fire lively, bright and warm, but she didn't fear it. She dreamed of –And she dreamed of the face of a woman she had never seen, but that she was familiar with, that she felt... motherly, radiating the same warmth that the soft earth of the greenhouse did; she closed her eyes, enjoying the moment.  
A hot breeze whispered near her ears in the darkness with deep and feminine voice.

«It's time to put an end to your wait,

****αλήθεια.»****

**─────────── ๑ ⋅ ✧ ⋅ ๑ ───────────**

****Final notes:****  
Thank you for reading! I hope you liked it.  
I still have plans for this story besides a good 'ol correction, aka I want to a)translate it in my mother tongue, italian and 2) I'm actually planning a series of oneshots for each of my Percy Jackson ocs (I have like, 8. Wish me luck-), as either backstories or character studies.

If you're not close with greek or philosophy, Aletheia, the girl's name, means truth, revelation or disclosure, pretty meaningful for her character development; her journey is one of search and discovering, and I puposefully found all the ways to not say her name until the end exactly for this reasons. No one said her name right for a century, she doesn't fully understand or knows her roots, she doesn't know who she is. I tried to work on that as much as I could.  
Instead, the Orpheus Society was both a nudge to mortals going where they shouldn't and a minuscle tribute to the Lockwood&Co. series, that you should totally read cause it's awesome.  
Moreover, I also took advantage of the phenomenon of dissociation to write the long ass flashback; I admit I exaggerated and was unprecise to write it like this, but I personally experience dissociation, so I know what I'm talking about.  
Last but not least, I made the cover and I tried to make it look like a title carved into an old photograph, but it didn't came out _too_ well; I really like the font though, it's very Roaring Twenties-like.

Again, thanks for reading, leave a comment if you want to, I'd really like to know your thoughts!  
You can find the story also on Wattpad and soon (probably) on AO3.


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